


Quain Quettaler

by SavioBriion



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Ensemble Cast, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-05-03 02:01:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14558421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavioBriion/pseuds/SavioBriion
Summary: Musebysentence prompt sets. Ten sentences per pairing or character.





	1. Maedhros/Fingon

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Middle-Earth and all recognisable characters belong to Tolkien; I’m just playing in his sandbox. Prompts are from musebysentence and are generally not in chronological order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts from [this musebysentence post](https://musebysentence.dreamwidth.org/1452989.html). Thank you, [Ulan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ulan/), for betaing!

| Violent |

Maedhros’ eyes are shut, but he can still smell the ash and blood, hear the screams, where once there had been nothing but clean sea air and the cry of gulls; he wonders what Fingon will say, and then if Fingon will say anything to him ever again.

| Vanity |

Aredhel laughs at her brother and calls him vain, Turgon calls him a peacock, and even Argon shakes his head and smiles, but Maedhros remembers the first time he had braided ribbons of gold into Fingon’s hair, and it is a habit he has kept up ever since.

| Vicarious |

Two of the Edain who patrol the halls of Himring are evidently finding warmth and comfort in each other on this cold winter’s night, entwined in the shadows and letting out hoarse gasps and bitten-off moans; Maedhros pauses for a moment before moving on silently, not wanting to spy on this moment, but he cannot stop his thoughts from turning to Fingon.

| Voice |

Maedhros thinks he’s dreaming, at first, when he hears the faint strains of a beloved voice raised in song here in Angband.

| Verdant |

He remembers the gardens of Aman, somehow so much lusher and more verdant than anything here on this side of the Sea, glowing in the light of the Trees, and he remembers walking in them with a delighted Fingon, and he _wishes_ –  

| Volatile |

His brothers, never stable at the best of times, have descended into harsh bickering, and he is beginning to regret hosting this family gathering; Fingon catches his eye from across the table and smiles wryly, and Maedhros decides that perhaps it might be worth it after all.

| Vulnerable |

Worse than Maedhros’ lank, matted hair and emaciated body, worse even than his sunken, pained eyes and the desperate grip of his free hand, is his hoarse, broken plea for death, and Fingon fits an arrow to his bowstring with trembling hands.

| Visit |

No matter how they may wish otherwise, they cannot simply abandon their duties at will to meet with each other under the stars, and so they send messengers bearing gifts across Beleriand.

| Vivid |

Maedhros’ vision narrows, darkness creeping in at the edges; all he can focus on is Fingon’s broken body, lying in a pool of horribly bright blood.

| Vast |

He shuts his eyes and leans forward until their foreheads touch, breathing in Fingon’s scent as their hair mingles in the night breeze, and thinks that here, in the circle of Fingon’s arms, lies all the vast perfection that the Ainur had striven for in their song.


	2. Glorfindel/Erestor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten sentences for Glorfindel and Erestor. Prompts from [this musebysentence post](https://musebysentence.livejournal.com/1383856.html), though I’ve reordered the prompts a little to suit my needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned into a narrative of sorts, set in a world where Erestor was of Ecthelion’s House and he and Glorfindel were _almost_ lovers in Gondolin. The ones set in Gondolin are italicised.
> 
> Thank you, [peasantswhy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peasantswhy/), for betaing!

 

|Evasive|

When Círdan first leads Glorfindel into Lindon’s throne room Erestor can only stare in shock, rooted to the spot for a long moment before blue eyes meet his and he turns and _flees_.

|Embrace|

_Glorfindel pulls him into a fierce, hard embrace, uncomfortable through their armour, and tells him, “Go with Idril. I will follow, and I will find you, Erestor. I promise.”_

 |Water|

  _Ecthelion’s broken body lies in a fucking_ fountain _, of all things – Erestor keens in grief and anger, barely cognisant of Glorfindel yanking him along by the arm._

 |Sacrifice|

  _Their eyes meet, and for a moment Erestor dares to think that perhaps it will be alright after all – and then that fiery hand wraps around Glorfindel’s hair, and his ~~love~~ friend falls, and Erestor screams_.

 |Castle|

 When he first arrived Erestor had thought Lindon’s palace huge, but now it seems too small – wherever he goes he cannot avoid Glorfindel, who is as intent on speaking to him as Erestor is on avoiding him.

 |Reflection|

 Erestor gazes out over the moonlit surface of the little pond, remembering the centuries of solitary grief and mourning; he turns at the soft snap of a twig, tensing as he sees a flash of golden hair – Glorfindel has found him.

 |Tears|

 Glorfindel’s eyes are wet as he kneels before Erestor, clutching his hands in a white-knuckled grip and softly pleading for Erestor to stay and listen for a moment, as if Erestor had ever truly been capable of denying him anything.

 |Shirt|

 Erestor suspects that clothing may have been ripped in their distraction and the bark is sharp and uncomfortable against his back, but Glorfindel’s lips are warm against his, his arms are warm and safe and solid and Erestor’s heart is singing _finally, finally_ , and he cannot bring himself to care.

 |Nightmare|

 With a gasp Erestor startles awake from yet another nightmare-memory, covered in cold sweat and breathing heavily in the dark; unlike the past few centuries, however, now he simply turns to where Glorfindel lies asleep next to him, slipping his hand into his lover’s and forcing himself to match those deep, even breaths, reminding himself that Glorfindel is _here_.

 |Chain|

  _Marry me_ , Glorfindel whispers as he fucks him in the faint dawn light, languid and slow and sweet as molasses, and Erestor gasps and arches up into him and cries _Yes_.

 


End file.
